


put you into words

by ByTheAngell (SomeLittleInfamy)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (well technically friends to dating), Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, with a tiny bit of minimal angst in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 20:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLittleInfamy/pseuds/ByTheAngell
Summary: Magnus finds more than enough writing inspiration from his unrequited crush Alec... a crush he's done very well in hiding, until Clary gives the Literary Magazine submissions to Alec to sort through while the names are still on them.





	put you into words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magnusbicon (patrickbrewer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickbrewer/gifts).



“Alright everyone, listen up! We have a slight change to the submission process for the Literary Magazine this semester!” Clary calls out, gathering the attention of everyone in the classroom.

Magnus, with more than a few papers already tucked away into an envelope for his own submissions, listens with a worried look on his face.

“After a few troubling submissions last year, Mrs. Penhallow has decided to err on the side of caution and require that _all_ submissions have a name on them, and be turned in personally to a club member by the writer. Nothing can be turned in entirely anonymous - but if you wish for it to be printed anonymously, we can still do that! To keep them as anonymous as possible there will be one person unaffiliated with the club assigned to reading through them, just to make sure they fit the guidelines before taking the names off as long as you aren’t doing anything stupid like sneaking bomb threats in, or threatening to hurt anyone.”

Magnus tenses. He has some pretty personal submissions, some… well, honestly, they could be quite embarrassing if anyone knew they were from him. Not because he’s ashamed of them - quite the opposite, they’re some of his best writing in his own humble opinion - but because if someone read them with him in mind as the author they might be able to piece together _who_ they’re about. And the last thing he needs is for word to get out that his muse this year is his unrequited crush on Isabelle’s brother. Even _Isabelle_ doesn’t know, despite the increasing frequency he makes excuses to hang out with her while he knows Alec will be around the apartment the two siblings share with their other brother, Jace.

They’re friends in their own right at this point. They follow each other on social media, text more than Magnus texts with _anyone_ else, even Catarina, and usually spend most of their little group hang-outs gravitating towards one another to catch up on life, and school, and everything in between. But it’s been the majority of the year now and after an attempt or two at flirting that fell flat Magnus wonders if it’s entirely one-sided, and he isn’t about to risk their growing friendship to find out. Not when he can just dump his feelings into his writing instead.

Anyone who knows him might connect the dots. But a stranger reading them, and then keeping them anonymous from there? He doesn’t love the idea but it’s better than the alternative of Clary reading them, or someone else in the club. And what can he really do about it other than _not_ submit what he’s been working on for weeks now, and that simply isn’t an option. So Magnus nods in agreement along with the rest of the group before scrawling his name on the bottom of every sheet in the folder previously marked only with the word ~Anonymous, before handing it over to Clary.

With the folder in hand Clary holds it up, grinning from ear-to-ear. “This is pretty thick,” she observes. “You’re going to be half the magazine at this rate.”

“I’ve got a lot of inspiration this year, what can I say?” He smirks a bit before shrugging.  “And they probably won’t all make it, anyway. You know how it goes.”

And with that he leaves the rest up to fate, and forgets all about the writing submissions for the rest of the week.

\---

The following Thursday he shows up a few minutes early, catching just Clary in the classroom re-arranging the tables into a circle.

“Need some help with that, Biscuit?” he asks, shrugging his messenger bag off of his shoulder and tossing it to the side of the wall by the door.

“Sure you wanna risk messing up that perfect manicure of yours?” Clary quips, and Magnus laughs as he grabs a table without waiting for permission or acceptance.

“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” He asks, and the hopeful tone of his voice must give away the answer he’s hoping for because Clary shakes her head.

“We’re not voting yet,” she says, and Magnus sighs.

All the submissions for the magazine are typed up without names, read aloud to the group, and voted in by a points system. Everyone gets a vote, and the 30 submissions with the highest number of votes gets in. Not all of them are from people in the magazine, either, so it’s really a mixed bag of submissions every semester. But it’s fair, since they’d obviously be biased towards each other’s if they knew which was theirs.

“I wanted to do it this week, but I couldn’t get them back in time from our apparently too-busy-to-finish-in-one-week volunteer reviewer,” she explains with an eye-roll.

“Really? I mean, I know it’s not their job or anything, but there weren’t _that_ many to read through, were there?” Magnus wonders who could be so busy they can’t set aside an hour or two to read through some poems after an entire week.

“Yeah, well, I gave them to my girlfriend’s brother so I can’t exactly be _rude_ about rushing him--”

Magnus drops the chair he’s carrying, paying it absolutely no attention when it tips sideways onto the floor. His eyes are wide and he’s certain he isn’t breathing. In fact, he can’t remember what air is as his entire brain seems to short-circuit because Clary is dating _Isabelle Lightwood_.

“What? He’s finishing them now, so don’t worry! They’ll be done by next week.” Clary’s trying to make him feel better, as if his reaction is to the news that they’re still being worked on, and not over _who_ is working on them.

“Clary - and I cannot stress how important this is - _which of Izzy’s brothers did you give them to_?”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you know the Lightwoods, too. Why does it matt--”

“ _CLARY, PLEASE.”_ Magus is pleading now, and he feels about five seconds away from throwing up. He and Clary aren’t very close outside of the club, and she and Isabelle just started dating a few weeks ago, so of course he doesn’t expect her to remember that he’s friends with them, too. He doesn’t blame her, he isn’t upset with _her,_ he’s just upset.    
  
“Are you alright?”

“ **_CLARY.”_ **

“Oh my god, alright already! Alec volunteered to read through them when he overheard me complaining to Izzy about the new rule, but I don’t see what the big deal is-”

Magnus takes several steps backwards to lean against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in frustration. No no no no no no no, he thinks, and doesn’t realize he’s also saying the word over and over again out loud, too, until Clary gives him a look like she fears for his general sanity. She might not be too far off after tonight, if he can ever show his face on campus again for her to notice.

“Magnus, what’s wrong?” Clary keeps her distance, eyeing him carefully during this burst of erratic behavior.

“I have to go.” Instead of answering the question he turns and leaves, pausing only a moment to grab his messenger bag off the floor.

“Magnus?!” Clary calls after him, but he doesn’t stop or turn around.

The walk to Izzy’s apartment isn’t far from the classroom he’s at, but every step seems to drag on for a lifetime, even as he speeds his pace up to something not quite a run, but pretty damn close. Paying little mind to the people around him he bumps into the shoulders of more than one student while he punches a number into his phone and brings it to his ear.

It rings, and rings, and goes to Alec’s voicemail. He sends a text (‘ _Hey. This is going to sound strange but if you haven’t read the Literary Magazine submissions yet could you wait, and call me first? It’s important.’)_ but it stays unread and unanswered. Of course it can’t be that easy.

Okay, that’s fine. He can try a back-up plan. A few seconds later another number is dialed and ringing, and this time an eager, _“Hey!”_ greets him through the phone.  

“Isabelle, darling, please tell me you’re at home.” He tries to keep his voice even but there’s a clear edge to it, an underlying panic. Izzy being home to try and stop her brother before he gets to Magnus’ submissions is his last hope.

_“No, I have class late on Thursdays, remember? Why?”_

Magnus groans, face dropping after the moment of hope he mistakenly felt after she picked up.

“ _Damn_. Right, well. I’m going to your apartment to try and stop Alec from reading about half a dozen poems I wrote about him, so if you never see me again it’s because this went about as mortifyingly as I’m anticipating, I’ll have to transfer schools so I never have to face him again, and it was really nice knowing you.”

 _“Ma-”_ Izzy barely starts to say his name when he hangs up on her, much the same way he walked out on her girlfriend only minutes before.

He doesn’t want to go to their apartment because if he does, and Alec already read the poems, he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s going to do. But he has to risk it on the off chance that luck is on his side and maybe Alec just _told_ Clary he was getting around to them now, but he was really pushing them off again. _Please_ , he silently pleads with the universe, _be on my side this once_.

It only takes ten minutes for him to reach the apartment, but another 4 of pacing the hallway outside the door before he finally knocks.

There’s the sound of shuffling behind the door, soft footsteps that grow louder before a lock clicks and the door swings open.

“Oh, hey Magnus!” Alec’s clearly surprised to see him.

“Why do you even own a phone if you never have it with you, Alexander,” Magnus tries to joke, but he’s too nervous and it shows.

“Oh, sorry,” Alec looks a little sheepish. “Probably left it in my room. Uh, if you’re looking for Izzy she won’t be back from campus until late, it’s Thursday.” Alec points out. It occurs to him that this is the first time the two of them are actually alone, without Izzy or Jace or another group of friends along to go out or watch movies with. His heartbeat picks up speed at the realization, even if this is far from how he imagined finally getting some alone time with Alexander.

“I know. I was actually hoping to talk to you, if that’s alright. You didn’t happen to--”

But Magnus pauses when Alec shifts in an obvious attempt to block Magnus’ view of the living room. Shifting just enough (because Alec is tall and imposing when he needs to be, but he isn’t big enough to block the _entire_ doorway) Magnus glances past Alec to the table that’s in his line of sight, and sees what Alec is trying so obviously to block.

He’s too late. The table is covered with papers and a familiar envelope with Magnus’ name on it sits open at the top.

Alec knows. He read the poems and he knows and there’s nothing Magnus can do to take that back. He’s ruined everything - the dynamic they all had when they hung out together, any chance he had of maybe flirting with Alec properly and asking him out one day - now he just looks crazy, like he does nothing but stare at Alec and those gorgeous hazel eyes and soft smile and those little crinkles around his eyes when he laughs that just _beg_ to be admired in poetry.

Which, to be fair, isn’t entirely off-base. He does spend a _lot_ of time sneaking glances Alec’s way. It just isn’t something he planned on exposing yet. It isn’t the right time, and now it never will be.

“--you know what, nevermind. You’re right, I was here for Izzy but I totally forgot about her class, so I’ll just… go. Yeah, I have to go. Sorry.”

Magnus turns around and takes several steps down the hallway when he feels Alec’s hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Wait.”

It’s a simple request and yet somehow actually stopping instead of taking off in a sprint down the hallway is the most difficult thing Magnus has done in recent memory.

“Magnus, I-” Alec starts, but stops again.

Magnus takes a deep, steadying breath before forcing himself to turn around. “It’s alright, you don’t have to say it. I know you only hung around with me because I was friends with your sister. It’s cool, really.” Giving his best, fake-confident ‘I’m fine, really’ smile.

“That isn’t what I was going to say.” Alec frowns.

“No, of course it isn’t. You’re too nice to actually _say_ it,”  Magnus shakes his head. He can’t do this, not here, not now. He can’t stand there and listen to Alec let him down easy until he wants the ground to swallow him whole. They were just starting to become better friends and now he ruined even that, and he’ll never forgive himself for it. “I’m sorry. I can’t-”

“Will you come inside for one minute? I want to show you something.” Alec looks nervous. Why would Alec be nervous? “ _Please_?” When Alec repeats the request, practically begging this time, Magnus knows he can’t say no to that look.

“Alright.” It’s a reluctant agreement but he finds himself following Alec back into the apartment. When the door shuts behind him it leaves Magnus feeling strangely claustrophobic.

“Just… wait here. Don’t leave.” Alec instructs before disappearing down the short hallway that leads to his room. Magnus can’t help but wander over to the table, picking up his poem from the top of the pile and glancing over some of the words he wrote of a trip they took with Izzy and Cat and a few other friends to hike and picnic a month ago.  

‘ _We watch the sunset from the mountain top  
_ _Hand-crafted by deities, perfected over centuries  
_ _To be mesmerizing  
_ _To be awe-inspiring  
_ _But nothing in heaven or on earth could compare  
_ _To the enchantment I feel  
_ _Watching hues of green and chestnut and gold_  
Light up like fireworks when he laughs’

It was a perfect day. A perfect memory. Why did he have to go and ruin it?

When Alec comes back Magnus drops the paper back onto the table like it burns to the touch.

“Seriously, Alec, I’m sorry… if I thought for a _second_ Clary was going to give these to you I never would’ve-”

“Listen, Magnus, I know words are your thing and all, but if you could just _stop talking and listen_ for five seconds.”

Magnus winces at Alec’s exasperated tone, attention finally drawn to the paper Alec holds out. It’s covered in Alec’s handwriting from top to bottom.

“What’s this?” Magnus asks, taking it when Alec doesn’t reply right away, instead just holding the paper out stubbornly in front of him.

“It was meant to be anonymous, too. But since I read yours it’s only right that you get to read mine.”

Magnus looks from Alec down to the paper in his hands, and begins to read. It isn’t a poem, more an uninterrupted stream of consciousness. The prose takes the form of Alec observing someone in the fading light of the sun’s last rays. Of a moment on a mountaintop, with wind-blown hair and friends and wine… and about how Alec wished it was just the two of them instead of a group outing, instead of his sister sitting between them on the blanket they shared.

Magnus has to read it a second time to be certain before allowing himself to speak.

“...you wrote about me?” Magnus asks, dumbfounded.

“I know it’s probably awful, I tried the whole poetry thing but it was total garbage so I just sort of rambled instead, but… that isn’t the point. You’re asking if it’s about you, and yeah. It is.” Alec smiles, not the big kind that give him those explosive laugh crinkles but a small, reserved twitch of his lips that’s barely noticeable unless you’re looking for it.

And of course Magnus is looking.

“I thought there were some signs, but then I wondered if you were just being nice to me because I was Izzy’s brother,” Alec admits. “So I figured if I sent this in, and it wasn’t just me…” he shrugs. That’s clearly as far as he got with his plan, but it’s more than enough.

“It isn’t just you.” Magnus confirms, smiling for the first time since Clary told him about Alec.  

“So now what?” Alec prompts.

Magnus considers for a moment before the perfect idea comes to mind.

“I’m free Saturday for another hike. You drive, I’ll pack the picnic?” And then, just in case he isn’t clear enough, adds, “Just us this time?”

Alec’s entire face brightens at the idea. “Sounds perfect.”  

...maybe the universe wasn’t as out to get him as Magnus first thought.

**Author's Note:**

> (Find me on [Tumblr](http://bytheangell.tumblr.com) and also on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/By_The_Angell) while we all hang out waiting for someone to #SaveShadowhunters ! <3)
> 
> (And find Megan on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnusbicon), [tumblr](http://magnusbicon.tumblr.com), and [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/magnusbicon), because she's wonderful and deserves all the love! <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!)


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